Chapter Five
Elizabeth’s heart was about to race out of her chest, and she was about ninety percent sure that she’d be vomiting soon.
Wesley had just died. Right in front of her. She’d never seen anyone die before. Her parents—she’d seen them after the accident. Their bodies had been mangled, their faces barely recognizable. She’s been shaking and crying as she identified them. But they were already gone. Their suffering had ended.
When they’d burst into that condo and found Wesley, he’d still been struggling to live.
“What’s going on?” Saxon’s voice was flat. Dangerous. Rather scary-as-hell. Her gaze jumped from the floor of that elevator—she’d been staring at it rather blindly—to his face. He was staring at her with an unreadable expression.
She wet her lips and tried to swallow back her fear. “What’s going on?” Elizabeth parroted his words. “People are dying.”
“Taggert tried to kill you, so don’t act as if you’re grieving for him.”
His words felt like a slap. “I didn’t want to kill the man! I wanted him in prison, not hurting anyone else!”
“And Wesley?”
“I told you…he didn’t put the hit on me.” And Wesley had confirmed that, just seconds before he’d died. “He’s not the one who did this to me.”
“Wesley said that he knew who you were.”
“You know who I am, too. Elizabeth Ward.” Nothing special about her. Nothing that should make folks want to kill her.
The elevator doors opened. Saxon glanced around the area before they exited, and she noticed that he kept his gun close as they hurried toward their vehicle. Their stolen vehicle. He hadn’t mentioned that part to Victor—
Saxon pushed her back against a column in the parking garage. He caged her with his body, holding her there securely. “I see Gary…others must be coming.”
Who the hell was Gary?
But he wasn’t looking at her. His body—heavy, muscled, but taut with tension—was pressed intimately to hers. Every breath that he took, she felt. His rich, masculine scent wrapped around her. The warmth of his body also slowly penetrated, pushing away some of the horrible chill she’d felt ever since she walked into Wesley’s condo.
“Okay, we’re clear. Let’s go.” Then they were running toward the truck. Jumping inside. She expected him to gun the engine and rush out of there as if escaping from the gates of hell. But he didn’t. He just took them out, all nice and slow-like.
“We don’t want to draw any attention,” he said.
Right. No attention. At the scene of a murder. He’d removed all of the broken glass from the truck’s window earlier, so if anyone looked at it now, they’d probably just think the window was down. They were driving all Sunday-afternoon-slow, so it didn’t look as if they were terrified or—
“We’re getting away from the city.”
They were already out of the parking garage. But as soon as they exited that garage, she heard the scream of sirens. She looked up and saw police cruisers and an ambulance heading for her. Elizabeth forgot to breathe right then.
But Saxon just pulled the truck to the side of the road. When the line of rescue vehicles had passed, he maneuvered the vehicle back onto the street and kept driving. All slow-like still.
She didn’t speak for a few minutes. Mostly because she was trying to get her ragged emotions under control. Wesley is dead. Dead. He’s—
“Are you all right?” Saxon demanded. “Because you look like you might pass out any moment.”
She felt that way. Her cheeks were stinging, alternating back and forth between feeling ice-cold and red-hot. “I’m fine.”
He grunted. “Keep holding that shit together, sweetheart. You’re doing great.”
Elizabeth thought she might be in hell. “Who—who’s Gary?” Should that name have meant something to her?
“Gary is one of the FBI agents on Victor’s team. Only Gary usually plays back-up, staying out of the way while he works on his computers.” Saxon sighed. “For him to get pulled into an investigation like this, that means we’re in trouble.”
“Not you,” she said, the words too soft. “Me. Whoever is doing this…that person is coming after me.” But because Saxon was with her, he was being put at risk too. “Stop the truck,” she ordered him. “Just take me to the nearest police station.”
He kept driving.
“Saxon? Stop the truck!”
He stopped the truck. Luckily, no one else was on that street. “Do you want to live?”
“Y-yes.”
“Then you keep trusting me, because I’m your best bet, sweetheart.”
She tensed at the endearment, but it hadn’t sounded mocking. It had actually almost been—
“I’ve done things you can’t imagine. Things you don’t want to imagine.” His voice was a rumble in the dark interior of that truck. “But because of who I am…I know how to fight. Damn dirty.”
She’d seen him do it.
“I’ve kept you alive this long, and I don’t intend to let anything happen to you now. Stay with me, stay alive. It’s as simple as that.”
Her heartbeat drummed in her ears. “Why?”
“Why what?”
“Why are you risking so much for me?”
Silence.
She didn’t want him risking his life for her. She didn’t want anyone hurt. Because if he wound up on the floor, like Wesley—what will I do?
Headlights flashed behind them.
“You have to make a choice, Elizabeth.”
Her breath heaved out. “Drive the car.” Because in this crazy world, he was the one person that she trusted completely. “But you’d damn well better not do something ridiculous like die on me later.”
He laughed, and that rough, rusty sound went straight to her heart.
***
“Another one, sir?” Gary asked as he stood just outside of Wesley Locke’s condo.
Victor gave a grim nod. He was glad his agent had arrived so soon. “And it looks like the same MO.” He’d need a medical examiner to tell him for certain, but judging by the injuries he’d seen…I think the same man killed both Wesley Locke and Kurt Taggert.
How long had Locke fought for survival in that condo? Had he been in there, bleeding out, when Victor had discovered Taggert’s body? Shit, he felt as if the killer were two steps in front of him with every move that he made.
Victor raked a hand through his hair. “We need a team to get over to the Moontree Motel. Three of Taggert’s guys burst in that place and tried to get Elizabeth Ward.”
Gary’s eyes widened. “Is she all right?”
“She’s with Saxon.”
Gary blinked. “Is that…wise?”
Victor really didn’t like the guy’s tone. He’d revealed more info about Saxon to the guy lately—mostly because the mission had been coming to a head. When Saxon worked undercover, Victor liked to keep the details of his cases locked down.
But we were so close to taking out Taggert. I had to tell the rest of the team what was happening. Because when the FBI went in with guns blazing, he hadn’t wanted Saxon getting caught in the cross-fire.
“He seems a little…dangerous to me.” Gary was sweating. “Maybe Tracy or I should take over her guard duty.”
Victor shook his head. “He is dangerous, and that’s why he’s the one who’ll keep guarding her. No one is going to hurt her, not while Saxon is there.”
Gary nodded. “You…you’re so sure of him.”
One of the cops called to him and Victor turned away. “I’m more sure of him than I am of anyone. I’d trust Saxon with my life.”
“But it’s not your life that’s on the line,” Gary mumbled. “It’s Elizabeth Ward’s…”
***
Dawn had come. The world was supposed to look bright and fresh in the morning, wasn’t it? But it didn’t.
Fear still clung to Elizabeth. They’d stopped earlier—mostly just so they could wash Wesley’s blood off them. Then Saxon had kept driving and driving. The street had disappeared, and now they were heading into the Everglades. She didn’t speak much, she felt too tired. She wanted to crash hard and escape into her dreams, for just a little while.
But Saxon kept driving.
“Don’t worry.” His low, growling voice made her jump after that long silence. “We’re almost there. Soon, you’ll be safe. My cabin’s just a few minutes away.”
Her hands curled in her lap as he took them down what was not a road, not really, more like some partially worn path. She glanced back and realized that the path was pretty much invisible from the main road. If you didn’t know it was there, you’d drive right past it.
And that probably makes this place a perfect hiding spot.
A few moments later, they were in front of the promised cabin. The place was small, wooden, and totally surrounded by the swamp.
“You know…” Her throat had gone dry. “I’ve read stories about the giant snakes that live near this area. People have been letting their pet pythons and anacondas out here in the Everglades, just dumping them, and the snakes are getting huge and even attacking the gators.”
He didn’t say anything. She tore her gaze away from the cabin to see that he’d turned toward her, his brows raised in surprise.
“What?” Elizabeth demanded. “I’m serious.” Dead serious. “You should read the news stories.” She shuddered. “I can’t handle snakes.” Especially snakes big enough to attack an alligator.
He leaned forward, and his knuckles slid under her chin. “Sweetheart, you have men trying to kill you. Don’t you think you should be more worried about them? And not the snakes that might be out here?”
Something…happened to her when Saxon touched her. Her heart beat too fast. Her skin seemed to overheat, and her whole body just became far too sensitive. “I’m worried about the men…and the snakes.” She had enough fear for both of them.
He smiled. It was a rather stunning sight because he had a truly gorgeous smile. One that transformed his face from rough and dangerous to drop-dead gorgeous. “How about I promise to protect you from the snakes?”
The way he was already protecting her from the men who were after her? Twice now he’d saved her life. How was she supposed to repay him? “You’re not like anyone else I’ve ever met.”
His gaze had fallen to her mouth. Was he thinking about kissing her? Because she was thinking about kissing him, and that was just insane. She’d watched a man die! But…
But right then, she wanted to kiss Saxon. She wanted to grab tight to him and feel alive. Because she was very much afraid that she might be living on borrowed time. And I don’t want my last days—moments?—to be filled with just fear. I want more.
When they’d kissed before, escape had been her priority. Her mind had been racing the whole time as she waited for a moment of weakness from him. What would it be like to kiss him again? To just feel him against her? His mouth? His tongue?
“Since you’re sitting down, you can’t knee me in the groin.”
Her eyes widened. “I wasn’t—”
“So I’m going to kiss you now, unless you tell me to back the hell off.”
She didn’t speak.
His smile was gone, and desire lit his eyes. “You’re not like anyone I’ve met before, either,” he said, and then his mouth was on hers. Warm, sensual, lips open, tongue-teasing. She felt that kiss in every cell of her body. Need and desire twisted within her, and she kissed him back a little harder, a little deeper. Elizabeth found herself wanting more, wanting to feel so much more than just a kiss.
Because his lips had just touched hers and—Bam. Desire burned through her body. He did it. He makes me feel this way. I am in so much trouble.
“You taste good.” Those words were a deep, dark growl against her lips. “I could just eat you right up.”
Her panties got wet. That wasn’t supposed to happen. He wasn’t supposed to be the guy who made her think—Bam.
He kissed her again.
Her hands came up and wrapped around his neck. She pulled him closer and because she wanted it so much, Elizabeth opened her mouth wider for him. The man sure knew how to kiss.
How to kill and how to kiss. She’d discovered two very important skill sets that the guy possessed.
He licked her lower lip. Elizabeth couldn’t help it—she moaned, and his whole body went tense at that sound.
Saxon pulled away from her, settling back on his side of the truck, and Elizabeth realized that the panting sound of her breath filled the truck’s interior.
“Just so we’re clear…” Saxon told her, “I want to fuck you more than I want my next breath right now.”
Her panties got a bit wetter. No, she’d definitely not met anyone like him before. The guys in her circle—even Wesley—were always so controlled. Perfect gentlemen. They would never dream of saying something like that to her.
His fingers tightened around the steering wheel. His door was still open, and the interior light kept shining down on them. Her gaze trailed over his hands. Such big, strong hands. Her eyes focused on his knuckles and on the faint, white scars there. Her fingers reached out and traced lightly over the marks on his right hand. “What happened?”
“I busted too many faces.”
She looked up at him.
“In another life…”
Wait, those were scars from fighting?
“You need to remember,” he told her, staring straight into her eyes, “I’m not some safe guy you can play around with while you’re biding your time until you get to return to your real life. When I said I wanted you more than breath, I meant it.” His gaze glittered. “Next time, I’ll take you instead of that breath.”
She was not ready for this. For him. Not in any way. Elizabeth hurriedly pushed open her door. It wasn’t until that moment that she fully became aware of the sounds—it was like a million different insects were out there chirping at her. Probably because they are. She high-tailed it toward the cabin because she did not want to deal with any snakes, and when Saxon opened the front door, she rushed inside.
“I have a generator out back,” he told her, his voice the deep rumble that made her think far too much about what he’d sound like in bed. “I’ll get it going for you. Just stay here, okay?”
Wait, he was leaving? “Uh—”
And he was already gone.
So she stood there, keeping close to the door because it let the sunshine in, and those chirps and cries got louder and louder. She started to inch deeper into the cabin’s interior. The lights flashed on. She was so startled that she gave a little scream.
Saxon came running. “Elizabeth!”
She pressed her lips together. Embarrassed now, her gaze slid away from his.
Saxon laughed. It was a kind of rusty sound. “Thought you might have seen a snake. You know…the anaconda kind.”
Elizabeth’s stare jumped right back to his face. Oh, jeez, that smile of his was back in place. The smile that said, Hi, I’m uber sexy. Don’t you think so?
He shrugged. “I know the cabin isn’t much, but it’s a safe place. I’ll make contact with Victor soon, and we’ll see what the next step is for you.”
She turned around and looked at the cabin. The place was small, but absolutely immaculate. There was a big, dark rug on the floor. Gleaming, wooden chairs. A table. A bed—one obviously designed to hold a single person, but it had nice, comfy looking pillows on top of it. And there was a bathroom. How much more did she really need? “It’s perfect.” Snakes and all.
“Good. You rest here. Try to get some sleep.”
The floor creaked. She looked back and saw that he’d moved toward the doorway. Uh, oh. “Saxon?”
“I’ll check in with Victor and be back before you can even miss me.”
Doubtful. “Saxon—”
“And I’m sorry about Wesley Locke. Never in a million years would I have wanted you to watch him die.”
Her breath caught.
And he—was gone. He’d just shut the door. Locked it, and by the time she got the door unlocked and open, he was already back in the truck. ”Saxon!” He was really just dumping her there? After that kiss? After that whole wanting-her-more-than-breath thing?
Leaving?
Her jaw dropped.
His tail-lights vanished.
Yes, he’d dumped her.
The chirps grew even louder. Elizabeth hurriedly shut the door.
So much for needing her more than breath. That guy really needed to work on his seduction technique. ‘Cause abandoning a girl in the middle of snake central? So not sexy. So not.
I’m sorry about Wesley Locke.
“I’m sorry, too,” she whispered. She wrapped her arms around her stomach and wondered just what the hell she was supposed to do now.
***
Since he knew this particular area so well, Saxon knew the exact spot where he’d start getting cell service again. He’d been working the undercover assignment in Miami for the last few months, and he’d been escaping to his cabin whenever he could.
On the days when I have to escape so I can try to remember who the hell I really am.
He yanked out his burner phone, and he called Victor. The phone rang, and he tapped his fingers against the steering wheel. The damn truck actually smelled like Elizabeth now. She didn’t just smell like honey, she tasted like that sweetness. He hadn’t been kidding when he’d said that he could just eat her up and—
“Agent Monroe,” Victor snapped.
Victor was always snapping. The guy needed to learn how to relax the hell up. Maybe once Saxon was out of the business, he’d help his friend. “She’s in a safe spot.”
Silence. “You’re on a burner.”
Obviously. What might not be so obvious to Vic… “I’m not liking this whole setup, Vic. I mean, we were found at the motel. And now both Taggert and Locke are dead? By the same killer’s hand?”
“We don’t know yet if it was the same—”
“Aw, man, it’s me. Don’t feed me that line of crap. You and I both know we have to be looking at the same killer. What I don’t understand is…why? Why is someone so determined to get Elizabeth?”
When he thought of Taggert, fury pumped through him. He’d lost months of his life so that bastard could be brought in and turned against his clients. Taggert was supposed to be pressured into rolling on all the people who’d hired him over the years. This case should have resulted in a massive takedown.
And now—now he had no clue what was happening.
When Victor didn’t respond, Saxon said, “You need to get an APB out on Tommy Haines, Flint Mayo, and Romeo Gustav. I want those bastards out of the game and locked in a cell, understand?” Maybe those goons could tell them who’d originally hired—then killed—their boss. Victor thought of just how close those men had come to getting Elizabeth. “I can’t promise you I’ll let those bastards live if they come after her again.”
Silence. Victor would know that Saxon wasn’t bullshitting. His days of playing by the FBI’s rules were over.
“I’ll find them,” Victor promised. “Hell, once they get word that their boss is dead, you know they’ll panic, anyway. No doubt they’ll cut and try to run from the city, but my team will stop them.”
“You’d better.” Or he’d be stopping them.
“Where are you now?” Victor demanded.
Saxon hesitated. Normally, he told Victor everything. The guy was closer to him than any brother could ever be. After the shit they’d survived together, they’d formed a bond that Saxon had never expected. Only…
Elizabeth’s life is on the line. “I’ve got her someplace safe.” Like he’d said before.
“Saxon?” There was surprise in Victor’s voice. But Victor shouldn’t be surprised. Saxon was using a burner phone for a reason.
I’m not sure who I can trust. Because maybe someone had tipped Taggert off about Jenny’s true identity. And maybe that same someone had led Taggert’s men to the motel. “Did your team know that I had Elizabeth at the motel?”
“Well, yes, but—”
That was all he needed to hear.
Victor’s long sigh carried over the phone. “I get it. You still think someone from my team could be selling us out?”
Because, yeah, after Jenny’s death, Saxon had brought up this suspicion to Victor. By nature, he was just a suspicious bastard.
Victor’s voice dropped to a low, lethal whisper. “I told you, I checked everyone—”
“And I told you…I don’t trust one hundred percent—not anyone but you.” Because he knew that money could buy nearly anyone’s loyalty.
“You won’t tell me where Elizabeth is,” Victor fired back. “So how the fuck do you trust me? You know I would never turn on you. I’d never do anything to hurt you.”
Right. Shit. This was Vic. His family.“I’ll tell you, but you don’t tell anyone else. Not even Gary and Tracy.”
“Not anyone else,” Victor agreed grimly.
Saxon stared out at the swamp around him. “I’ve got her in my cabin.” Vic was the only other person who knew the location of the place. If I can’t trust him, then I truly can’t trust anyone.
“I’ll round up Taggert’s crew. We’ll put pressure on them, and they’ll roll on the person who took out the hit on your girl.”
“Elizabeth isn’t mine.” He might want her, but she wasn’t…his.
“Keep her safe, and I’ll check in with you in six hours.”
Saxon glanced down at his phone, noting the time. He’d never missed a check-in with Victor. When you were undercover, check-ins were necessary for survival. Before he ended the call, he had to say, “Kurt Taggert was one cold-blooded SOB. So was Locke. Who the hell do you think got close enough to gut them with a knife?”
“I’m going to find out,” Victor said, “but, right now, my money’s already on the perp being an unhappy client of Taggert’s.”
And the client who would be the most pissed off right then? That would be the guy who’d paid to have a woman killed…only that woman had rode off into the night on the back of Saxon’s motorcycle.
I-I knew who she…was…Locke’s words replayed through his head once more. Those words didn’t make sense, but often the words of a man nearly dying were nothing more than nonsense.
“Six hours,” Saxon said. “Now I’ve got to go. The woman doesn’t like being alone with snakes.”
“What? She doesn’t like—”
He hung up on Victor and turned the truck back around. Elizabeth was waiting.
***
Victor shoved his phone into his pocket and turned to walk inside Locke’s condo once more. The crime scene techs were running around, working their mojo, and they were already analyzing the blood spatter. The body was still on the floor, and the place was starting to smell.
So much time and energy wasted. The whole goal had been to bring Kurt Taggert in alive. He could’ve turned on so many powerful men and women in the area. Now he was gone. He was dead and Wesley Locke had been sent to the morgue.
Which one died first? Had the killer attacked Locke, left him to die, then went to kill Taggert? Or had the guy hauled ass over to the condo once he’d taken care of Taggert?
“Uh, Victor? I checked the security footage.”
He turned to face Gary.
But one look at the guy’s face, and he knew the news wasn’t good.
“Someone sabotaged the feed.”
Of course.
“But I can tell you…” Gary added quickly, “that based on when the feed stopped, I think our guy came after Locke first. Because the feed stopped around the same time that Saxon was rescuing Ms. Ward from The Blade.”
And Taggert had definitely been alive then.
“Put an APB out right now for Tommy Haines, Flint Mayo, and Romeo Gustav,” he demanded. “Those bastards went after Ms. Ward at the Moontree Motel.”
Tracy’s eyes widened. “Is she dead?”
“No, she’s safe. Saxon still has her.” And as long as Saxon was there, Victor knew the woman would stay alive. “Find those men,” Victor said. “While we still have the chance to salvage this case.”
***
Saxon slowly opened the door to the cabin. His shoulders were tense because he pretty much expected Elizabeth to try and rip him a new one since he’d dumped her there, but instead of being greeted with an angry outburst, he heard only…
Silence.
He shut the door. His gaze swept the room, and he saw her in his bed.
She’d changed clothes. Ditched the sexy skirt and low-cut top. She’d put on one of his old t-shirts that he kept at the cabin. She was wearing it, and her long, perfect legs were peeking out from the bedding.
He walked toward her, moving slowly, and when the floor creaked beneath him, he tensed. But Elizabeth didn’t wake up. He edged closer to her. She’d put her new tennis shoes by the bed. Her hand was curled under the side of the pillow. Her breathing came, slow and easy. She looked sweet, but tempting as all hell.
His fingers brushed over her cheek, smoothing her hair back. When he looked at Elizabeth, he thought of all the things he’d given up while he’d worked undercover.
A family. A life. A home.
Someone who actually cared about what the hell happened to him.
Unlike Jenny, he hadn’t been willing to let someone else get close while he worked his missions. Because, he knew that his cases crossed the line too many times. And it wasn’t as if someone would fall for Saxon, the gang leader. Or Saxon…the damn criminal with a killing past and a record that stretched for years.
He wasn’t exactly considered dateable by most of the world.
So he didn’t date. When he wanted to fuck, he fucked. And when he wanted more—
I never want more.
His fingers brushed over her hair once more.
I never want more.
She turned into his hand, and, still asleep, she whispered, “Saxon.”
Fuck.
***
Victor hauled ass back to the Moontree Motel. When he got there, it wasn’t a particular surprise to find the parking lot mostly empty. The folks in that type of place tended to clear out by dawn.
He made his way back to room number thirteen. The door was shut—not fully, because the lock had been smashed, but someone had tried to close the thing.
“Those are bullet holes,” Tracy said from behind him. Tracy had followed him to the motel while Gary stayed back to work more on the crime scene at Wesley Locke’s place.
He nodded at her words, not even glancing over at Tracy. He’d already seen the holes that graced the side of the building—and those bullets had pierced right through the glass on the window.
“It looks like there was one hell of a gun fight here,” Tracy continued, “and no one bothered to call the cops?”
“You know this isn’t that kind of place.”
“But, bullets—”
He drew his own weapon and headed inside. The door squeaked as he pushed it open, and the smell—a smell that he recognized too well—had his jaw clenching.
“Cancel the APB,” Victor ordered as he stared at the men in front of him. The bodies were on the floor. They’d been hit multiple times, that was obvious. Taken out, eliminated with brutal efficiency.
“I thought Saxon said he left them alive.”
Victor bent next to Tommy Haines’s body. He recognized the guy who’d been one of Taggert’s flunkies. At least six bullet wounds covered the guy’s chest—and one had been fired right into his head. “Yeah, that’s what he said.” He paused. “So that means our killer attacked after Saxon was clear.” Because he didn’t believe for a moment that Saxon had killed those three men. Saxon wouldn’t lie to him about something like that.
His gaze slid over to the other two bodies. Both men had also been shot in the head, execution-style. “We’ll need full work-ups on the bodies. Hopefully, the killer left behind a clue we can use to track him.”
Tracy whistled.
“Who the hell are we dealing with here, boss?”
He didn’t know, but he was sure determined to find out. “Cancel that APB,” he said again. His gaze swept the room. When folks in this motel had heard the first blast of gunfire, they would have hunkered down. The less they saw, the better—that was always the mantra in places like this one.
Victor headed back out into the sunlight. He sucked in a deep breath, one that didn’t taste like death, and gazed out at the empty parking lot. Sonofabitch. Everyone had definitely cleared out of dodge. He turned toward the check-in office. Maybe the young clerk had managed to catch a glimpse of the killer.
He headed into the check-in area. The bell over his head gave a little jingle when he opened the door. “Hey, kid,” he called out. When he’d gotten the room the night before, the guy behind the counter had barely looked eighteen. “Kid?” No one else appeared to be in the small office.
His gut clenching, Victor strode forward. His leaned over the counter and glanced down to the floor behind it.
The desk clerk wasn’t going to be ID’ing anyone. He was in a pool of blood. Just like the others, he’d been shot in the head. Another body, another damn pool of blood—when did this shit become my life?
“Fuck,” Victor muttered. Someone hadn’t wanted to risk being spotted by the guy. You came in here, didn’t you? Because you wanted to question the guy about Saxon and Elizabeth. Then when he’d stopped asking his questions, the perp had eliminated the witness.
We’re dealing with a professional. One who can kill just as easily with his gun as he can with his knife. A guy who didn’t care how many people he took out.
But something was nagging at Victor. If the guy was a professional hitter—and it sure looked that way—then why had Taggert been the one with Elizabeth Ward at The Blade? That part just didn’t make sense to Victor. Why hire out work that you could just do yourself?
This case was spinning out of control. The bodies were piling up, and, so far, they had nothing to show for their months of undercover work.
Nothing but the dead.